Lightning Strikes (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy #3) by Trevion Burns Read Free Book Online Page B

just as she climbed out of the bed, dragging the dislodged comforter with her as she crossed the room to the closet.
    “Hotels usually keep spare pillows in the closet somewhere—” She hoped the back of her plush brown thighs were glistening even under the feeble yellow lighting as she bent deep into the closet.  She hoped he was looking.
    She stood tall and turned to him just in time to see him avert his eyes.  Beaming, she held up the pillow she clutched it her hand.  “Got one,” she said, crossing the room to him and offering him the pillow and blanket, still grinning like a proud puppy.
    Jack took the pillow and blanket, looking up at her.  “You don’t have to do that.”
    “If you won’t take the bed, at least now you can sleep on the floor.  There’s no way you can remain vertical for another second after the day we’ve had. Besides, I sweat like a dog when I sleep.  This blanket would’ve ended up on the floor anyway.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted.  “Thanks.”
    “You said ‘thanks?’ ” She turned away from him with a smile of disbelief, and it was still bright on her face as she moved to the bed and climbed back under the sheets.  “And is that a smile I see?  I had no idea your face knew how to do that.”
    Against his will, the second corner of his mouth joined the first, lifting as he stood from his chair and dropped the pillow and blanket at the foot of her bed.
    She watched him bend over at the hip, constructing his makeshift cot, nearly breaking her neck to watch as he plopped down on it once he deemed it acceptable.
    Falling back onto the pillows of the bed, she listened to him shuffle around for several minutes, and only when the silence nearly claimed her and put her to sleep did she whisper.  “Jack?”
     
    ***
     
    Jack considered ignoring her.  Pretending to breathe a little deeper so she’d assume he was asleep.  He needed rest, an anomaly that had eluded him all day.
    Her soft, whispered voice hit the air again.  “Jack?”
    “Hm?”  He moaned, shifting on his man-made cot, eyes still closed tight.
    “I snore okay?”
    He grunted.
    “So don’t hold it against me or anything.”
    “I won’t.”  He cleared his throat and shifted.  Silence fell in.  His breathing deepened.  Blessed sleep began to claim his bones, welcoming him into the beautiful abyss of unconsciousness.
    “Jack?”
    His next moan came from a deeper place.  “Hm?”
    “I feel like those ants are crawling on me.  I know they aren’t, but I feel like they are.  I feel like they’re on me .”
    “I do too,” he grumbled.  “It’s all in your head.  They’re married to whatever that red stain is on the other bed.  They won’t bother us.  Close your eyes.  Go to sleep.”
    “Hey, Jack?”
    “Yes?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
    “Do you snore?”
    “No.”
    She laughed.  “I feel bad now.”
    “Don’t.”
    “Okay, I won’t.”  She breathed deep.  “ ‘Night.”
    Silence.  Calm.  Delicious sleep curling into his skin.
    “Jack?”
    His eyes popped open.  “ What?”
    “I just wanted to say… whoever she was…”  Another silence.  “She’s an idiot.”
    This time, when the silence swept in, Jack didn’t welcome it.  He couldn’t.  Not when his heart rate had picked up exponentially.  Not when the meaning of her words only made it pump faster.  Not when his eyes burned at the sound of them, reminding him of exactly what he was running from, and even more so, what he was running to.
    He could’ve wallowed in his self-imposed pity party for at least a few moments longer if the tickle he felt on his ankle had subsided.  He’d convinced himself that tickle was a figment of his imagination. His mind putting an ant on his body that wasn’t really there, just because he knew there were millions infesting the mattress a few feet away.
    He tried to sleep through that tickle, but couldn’t.  It grew more persistent and then started moving